Shadow Play
by Moon Shadow Magic
Summary: Two orphans and a babysitter, as far as the town was concerned; but a responsible babysitter should find out what the Shadow was that dogged Mytho's footsteps, shouldn't she? Written with the September 2013 deviantArt ClubTutu contest 'Children' in mind, but I was unable to post it from home and missed the deadline. Disclaimer at end.


Shadow Play by Moon Shadow Magic

They made an odd trio, strolling through the weekly market or window- shopping, stopping by the park or looking through the fence at the Academy, and generally keeping out of Charon's hair during business hours.

Unless one knew Charon and his foundlings, it would look as if the white- haired boy was the eldest and the leader; but a few minutes of conversation always made it clear that the girl, ever cheerful and gradually growing from a cute and slightly bossy child into a pretty and proper young lady, was keeping an eye on both boys. Well, it gave her something to do aside from her schooling, the town supposed. Her parents were well- to- do and could afford help, and although Raetsel knew every skill of the homemaker to near- perfection, she really wasn't needed at home most days.

Everyone knew about little Fakir and the appalling attack that had killed his parents in front of him. Without Raetsel, they mused, and without that Mytho to look after, who knew what he might have become? A small barbarian, perhaps, bellicose and unpleasant, or worse. Charon was acknowledged to be a good man, one of the best and a pillar of the community in his rough- around- the edges way, but there was a distinction between keeping a boy in hand and raising him to be socially acceptable.

If Fakir had responded to his tragedy by becoming private and aloof and fiercely protective of those few who were close to him, one could only guess at the catastrophe that had turned Mytho into the shell of a boy that had to be herded here and there. A nice boy, yes, and intelligent, but so vague as to frustrate conversation. A few people harbored flashes of memory of a wandering beggar who refused to let the odd, antique sword he carried out of his sight; but no one spoke of that, and the images faded unnoticed. They were replaced by others: the white- haired boy, now well- dressed and cared for, with a limp or a bandage to attest to the latest rescue of some animal or child, and always with Fakir in attendance or running about looking for his playmate. None of the town gossips seemed to notice that Mythos' age was marked by the passage of time until the next incident, not by growth.

But that was not the only mystery about Mytho, Raetsel found. He had a shadow.

Fakir knew she was there, but little more. Mytho would disappear for an hour or so, and then reappear as if nothing had happened. That in itself was not unexpected; the smallest thing could distract him for seconds or for hours- but someone had to put the crown of flowers or leaves or black feathers on his head.

The shadow even had a name: Rue. Mytho might not offer information, but he would talk if asked. To Fakir's disgust, Mytho said that she would call him Prince. But neither Fakir nor Charon had ever seen her up close, only catching a glimpse of black and a giggle that said she had outwitted her Prince's keeper once again. It was like trying to catch sight of the shyest of wild animals.

Raetsel had better luck; of course, she wanted to see this Rue, not just drive her away. Still, it took a very long time to get a good look at the little girl in the black tutu, leading Mytho away around a corner from home, where Fakir hadn't yet realized that Mytho had gone out. Raetsel made up her mind on the spur of the moment, and followed Mytho without fetching Fakir.

She didn't think she'd been seen. She knew this part of town well enough to hurry to the corners and peek around in time to catch her quarry making their next turn, and once to parallel their course through a long alley while they took the long street by the watercourse. By that time she was sure they would go to one park in particular.

There was the open space with the tree in the center; and there was Mytho, dancing with a tiny waif barely half his height. Raetsel watched through the leaves of a bush. She'd never studied at the Academy and knew only that what she saw was ballet; anyone in Goldkrone would have known that much.

Still, Raetsel had never realized that Mytho cared this much about it. As for the girl- Raetsel knew what little girls playing ballerina looked like, and this wasn't it. Someday this Rue really would be a ballet dancer.

But the dance had ended. The little girl made Mytho sit down under the tree and close his eyes, while she ran into the bushes. Raetsel didn't want to go out into the open and scare the girl away, but experience suggested that Fakir could come along at any moment now...

"He's my Prince."

Startled, Raetsel whipped around, and then looked down. The little girl called Rue was there, storm- faced and defiant.

"He's my Prince. Not yours."

"All right," said Raetsel, unable to hold in a smile. "Mytho can be your prince. But you know, I have to look after him sometimes. I'm his friend Raetsel. I think you've seen me before."

Rue's expression changed from defiant to uncertain, and the child took a step backward. So she'd expected an argument?

"Your name is Rue, isn't it? May I see you dance together again soon?"

Several things happened then: a crow suddenly called from somewhere just above them, a look of terror crossed the little girl's face, and a boy's voice called for Mytho, from not so far away at all. Raetsel turned to look for Fakir, and when she turned back Mytho's shadow had vanished. She called Fakir over, wondering why calling the shadow by name was enough to drive her away.

Disclaimer: Princess Tutu and all related characters and elements are the property, copyright and trademark of HAL– GANSIS/TUTU and Ikukoh Itoh and no ownership or claim on said property, copyright or trademark is made or implied by their use in the work(s) of fan fiction presented here. This fan fiction constitutes a personal comment on the aforesaid properties pursuant to doctrines of fair use and fair comment. This fan fiction is non-commercial, not for sale or profit, and may not be sold or reproduced for commercial purposes.


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